


Like a Freight Train

by thalialunacy



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-09
Updated: 2010-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-26 16:32:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalialunacy/pseuds/thalialunacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where they watch <i>Unstoppable</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Freight Train

**Author's Note:**

> **Summary** : Fangirls are not the only ones affected by [Chris's Bulge Shot in _Unstoppable_](http://pics.livejournal.com/norfolkdumpling/pic/0008krs6).  
>  **Warnings** : Um, this is kind of… boy-ish porn.  
>  **Disclaimer** : Obviously fictional content is FICTIONAL. Please, _please_ don't sue me. Also, don't be hatin, we just like the fuckin.  
>  **Notes** : Prompted by and written for norfolkdumpling, whose Urbine icons make my world go round, and who also happens to be pretty awesome. Sorry this took so long, lovey, and is not at all as epic as you deserve. ♥

Chris loses the coin toss.

He groans from where he's got a hip against his kitchen counter, facing his IKEA-spindly ironically-named dining room table. "Aw, shit, what fucking luck." He does his best charming-pleading look. "You're really going to make me sit through this?"

Karl snorts. "Hell yeah I am." He reaches over Chris's shoulder into a cupboard, bringing out a plate for his toast and Vegemite. The Vegimite Chris has had in his pantry for months now.

Chris suddenly notices how he hasn't really been noticing. They've been living in each other's pockets recently, what with Karl's divorce ("Amicable!" the big man will always swear, and Chris mostly believes him.) and filming being so steady on. He's gotten used to Karl's smells, both pleasant and un-, his mood swings, his geeky friends calling at ridiculous hours (Who knew D&D games went until 6am? Who _knew_?), the way he sprawls on the couch in jeans and a t-shirt and looks like a J-Crew model, while Chris skulks around in his white t-shirts like he's going to put on a beret and snap his fingers next to the microphone.

"Fine," he finally says, after he's watched Karl fix his strange food like he lives in Chris's kitchen. "But I reserve the right to heckle."

"Heckle yourself?"

"It's got to be the only way you survive watching _Xena_ , am I right?"

Karl looks thoughtful around his toast for a moment. "Point." Then he grins. "That and remembering how many of the cast and crew I--"

Chris waves his hands as if to ward off the conversation, and heads into the living room. "Oh for fuck's sake, if I have to hear about the Antipodean Pleasure Palace that was the filming of Xena and Hercules one more time, I'm so rescinding my beer offer."

He can pretty much hear Karl's pout follow him, along with more toast-munching. "No way, mate, it's the good shit!"

Chris can't help but grin. "Damn right it is. Now get your _arse_ in here so we can get this torture started."

Karl grumbles but he's smiling as they spread themselves out on the couch like normal, slouching being a way of bachelor life. Things are great, things are normal until Chris sees himself laid out shirtless across the screen like a centerfold, grimaces, and reaches for his beer--

"Shit," he says suddenly, laughing at himself, "even with all that talk about it, I totally left the beer in the kitchen." He pauses the dvd (that was part of the deal-- no leaving the room and no passing out) and heaves himself off the couch.

When he gets back, he hands Karl a beer and a smile. Karl smiles back but it's a little tense. But Karl gets that way, sometimes; Chris has gotten used to it. Being a dozen timezones away from your kids does that to a person, and he's got no right to pry, when it comes down to it.

He unpauses the movie and grimaces. "Oh good, here we go with the money shot--" And he watches his own tighty-whity-clad package practically prance across the screen.

Then he hears a curse and a cough. When he looks over, Karl is drinking a little too innocently and-- and shifting in a way that can only mean one thing.

Chris blinks. Chris looks at him. Chris's mouth might be hanging a smidge bit open.

Karl tries to look innocent for a little bit longer but eventually gives up and sighs. "Look, sorry, okay? It's…" He's like a locomotive gathering steam. "…been… a while… and you're really hot andyoubloodywellknowit so--" He gestures helplessly with his beer. "Can we just move on and forget about it? I'm sorry, mate, I really am--"

Chris puts the brakes on. "No, wait, hey, don't be sorry, it's flattering as hell."

The beer stills.

"It's-- I didn't know you liked guys, so it's surprising, is all."

Only-- Chris is realizing that what's a little _more_ surprising is the way _his_ body is reacting to Karl's reaction. Suddenly… he finds himself doing a little shifting of his own.

"Yeah, well…" Karl gestures vaguely. "So… You're not… uncomfortable." Karl's voice is hesitant but ready to accept Chris's answer either way.

Chris thinks about it for a moment, thinks about his options, then mentally shrugs. "Oh, I am." He waits until Karl's eyes have warily met his, then grins. Leers, probably, but he's not had that much practice at the whole _seducing men_ thing, so can you blame him?

Karl raises an eyebrow, his cheeks still a little pink. "Oh really?"

Chris shifts again, spreading his thighs a few inches, oh so casually. "Oh yeah. Getting more so by the second." Which is no lie. Karl's eyes get wider--if that's even possible--and drop to Chris' crotch, where his previously artfully-tight jeans are now bordering on painfully-tight. "You wanna… help me out with this?"

"Wait," Karl protests, " _you_ most certainly don't even-- you know--" He's blushing and it's fucking adorable.

Chris reaches for his big tan hand and puts it right over his hard-on, keeping eye contact the whole time. "Not normally, no. But come on, you're--" He lets his gaze fall to Karl's perfect cocksucking lips. "Fucking gorgeous. I mean, hello, mancrush, remember?"

"Yeah, but I thought that was--"

Chris presses down on their hands. "Karl. This doesn't lie." He tries another charming smile. "Why are we still arguing?"

Karl eyes him warily, but doesn't move his hand, and Chris is trying to think what the hell else he can do to convince him he's interested--

But then Karl's kissing him. Just leans right over, his hand still on his crotch, and kisses him. And Chris can tell within an instant that it's a test-- it's a toe in the water, a meat thermometer, an 'I call bullshit' move.

So Chris kisses him back. His free hand brazenly captures the scruff of Karl's neck and holds him there while he presses firmly with his lips, once, twice, then the third time licks the seam presented until Karl's mouth opens to him. A groan travels through both of them as the kiss deepens, and Chris can only hope Karl's skin is flushing as much as his is. Although he wouldn't be able to tell under that fucking tan, whereas Chris is hopelessly white and it's obvious if he's even _thinking_ about blushing.

Anyway.

He pulls back eventually, because he has to remember he was just trying to make a point and his jeans are _ridiculous_ by now and he's ready to get it going.

He looks at Karl, a little glazed but he can still see the heated skin, the slick lips, the glow in his eyes. "No bullshit," he says finally, a grin cocked on his lips.

Karl nods, and they're so close his nose almost brushes Chris's skin while he does it. "All right, then."

And he kisses Chris again. This time, his tongue parts Chris's lips and Chris wants to declare himself the _Winner!_ but then Karl's hand is _moving_ along his crotch and undoing his pants and--

"Fuck, yeah--" he breathes into Karl's open mouth. Karl chuckles and Chris lifts his hips with a grunt and his cock is suddenly and gloriously _free_ , and Karl's hand seems huge on it, which is no small feat because Chris's cock isn't exactly tiny, Chris thinks with a swell of pride and--well, and a swell, because Karl's hand _is_ huge, and he watches for a moment as his reddened cock disappears and reappears in that fist.

He can feels Karl's forehead against his cheek, and has a feeling Karl's watching, too. "Fucking hot, Urban."

"Mmm." Chris feels more than hears Karl's agreement, a deep rumble, and it's enough to have him swiveling his head to suck at Karl's lips some more, reaching out with his own hand to Karl's still-woefully clothed cock… trying to coax more of those noises out of him...

"Now who's being tortured," Karl groans quietly. Chris kisses his smile until it's little pants, huffs of air, and Karl's hips strain against his hand.

"Up," he instructs, and Karl grumbles but complies. Chris licks his lips as inch by inch the most vulnerable part of Karl is revealed--the paler skin, the coarse hairs, the strange wrinkles, the new smells and flavors--and-- "Fuck--" --loses his patience before the trousers and boxers are any further than mid-thigh.

He dives down and buries his nose in the crease of Karl's groin, the pants zipper scratching his chin but he doesn't care. He feels Karl's hand slide across his scalp, combing through his Kirk-haircut. When Chris starts tonguing at the skin, his other hand stroking the base of Karl's cock, the hand tightens.

"Pine…" There's a tug and Chris reluctantly leaves his hide-out, half-sliding and half-being-pulled until he's pretty much sprawled out on Karl. This seems like a bad idea, but the bonus here is that their cocks are in contact, and when Karl shifts them together and the friction ignites a spark in his balls, he quickly comes over to Karl's way of thinking.

Plus, hello, in this position he has full access Karl's fucking perfect lips. He takes advantage of that straight-fucking-away, intent on licking every bit he can reach, biting the fullness of them, sucking on the warm, wet tongue--

Karl's hands cup Chris's ass and grind their cocks together and soon Chris can't quite concentrate on kissing, which is a damn shame but his cock is pretty excited to get off so he just lets it take over, his lips sliding wishfully against Karl's jaw and down to his shoulder as they rut helplessly towards completion.

"Oh, no, none of that." And one of Karl's hands is tugging on Chris's hair again, forcing Chris to lift his head until they have eye contact. "I want to watch your face. See what ridiculous, perfect face you make when I make you come." His eyes are feverish, his breathing shallow, his lips plump, and Chris just groans.

"Oh, fuck, that's just not--" Karl thrusts against him particularly meaningfully, and Chris sees hot shooting stars. "Gonna fucking come, Urban." He struggles to stay upright as the orgasm begins unfurling in his balls.

"Good, that's what I want, I want you to come all over me." Karl's voice is low and grumbly and Chris gasps as he starts to shoot. "So hot, Pine, come on."

Chris grits his teeth. "I am, Jesus-- Fuck!" The last is a shout as he finishes fully. Then-- "Karl--" He's blown out but not too blown out to notice Karl's own orgasm; Chris coming was apparently enough for Karl to let go and it's a fucking sight, his mouth slack and his eyes scrunched with pleasure.

Karl makes a satisfied noise as he takes his last shot. Chris kisses the corners of Karl's mouth in between gulps of air, feeling their hot breaths commingling, and he feels Karl's hand in his hair, still, gently combing through the same patch over and over again.

"Fucking Christ," he huffs against Karl's chin, still landing kisses wherever he can, surely sloppy kisses but at this point, who the fuck cares?

Karl chuckles. "For an English student, you're not very…" He waves his hand around briefly.

"Erudite?" Chris volunteers as he fumbles around for the nearest piece of fabric--one of his sweaters, God knows he has enough of them--and half-assedly cleans them up, his grin huge sweaty and cheeky. He tosses the sweater over the couch, then Karl's other hand makes its continued presence on Chris's ass known by giving a retaliatory squeeze and Chris chuckles. "Whoa there, Urban, give a guy a little recovery time. I'm not nineteen."

Karl just grins. "Your turn for torture."

Chris then remembers the movie on the screen. "Hey, wait--" He turns and scruffs around until they're in some semblance of a cuddly heap--a manly cuddly heap, of course, with sticky residue and cocks--and his head is under Karl's chin, turned to the tv. "Now that I'm not naked, think you can handle it?"

Karl's hand lands on his ass with _crack_ and his hips hump Karl reflexively. Chris's head snaps up, his mouth opens for a stunned moment, then he laughs and raises an eyebrow. "I take it that's a no."

Karl grumble-growls and Chris finds himself getting pulled in for a ridiculous kiss, messy and loopy because hey, they both just came, but hot and sweet all the same.

Finally, Karl releases him, his hips shifting in a lazy but intriguing way. "D'you reckon it'll be a problem?"

Chris laughs, and kisses him again, hard and quick. "Oh fuck no. I'm putting this damn movie on _repeat_. Every day. Maybe I'll get another tv, just to--"

Karl shuts him up but good, then.

 _  
**FIN**   
_


End file.
